


Arrested by You

by athousandsmiles



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fix-it fic, Romance, post ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2494955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athousandsmiles/pseuds/athousandsmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian's been fighting for Emma all along. It's time she returned the favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "The Apprentice" (ep 4.04) broke me. Writing this fic is me repairing myself. I'm sure it'll be completely AU after the next episode. It's completely written, just needs a few tweaks here and there, and should be about eight chapters in total. I'll update quickly because I want it to be all posted before the next episode. 
> 
> I don't have a beta in this fandom, unfortunately, so this is unbeta'd. But I'm always open for constructive criticism or the pointing out of typos and such, so don't be shy. Thanks.
> 
> ETA: My dear friend, Hughville, has now gone through this with a fine tooth comb and pointed out all my pesky mistakes, for which I'm very grateful. Thank you, L. ♥

****

_"Apparently there is nothing that cannot happen today"_ \- Mark Twain

As he walks into the sheriff's station, he can't stop fiddling with his hook, twisting it to and fro with his good hand, consumed with the deal he made with Rumpelstiltskin to get it back. Emma's facing away from him, leaning toward the bars of the cell, hair spilling down her back like a golden waterfall, and he has to take a breath at the sight of her. The thought of losing her, and he surely will, is like standing on the edge of an endless black abyss. She is the most precious thing to come into his life in centuries, and he's thoughtlessly tossed it all aside. The pain, the shame of it is almost unbearable. 

In the cell is the fellow whose face he bloodied with his cursed hand the previous night. The man gives Killian a look that shames him somewhere down inside, and tells Emma he has no idea who hit him.

"It was me," Killian says, the crushing weight of his regrets making it hard to breathe. "Sorry, mate. Don't know what came over me."

"You did this?" Emma asks, swinging around to face him.

The look on her face tears at his heart, and it's worse than having it literally gripped by the hand of the Dark One as he threatened to rip it from his chest. But he can't perpetuate the lies he's already told. Even if it means losing her, he has to confess, because the truth will come out in the end and it will be much worse when it does. This might be the end, but at least he'll go out with a shred of honor, as minuscule as it might be. 

"Aye," he says with a nod. "Can we talk?"

She nods and brushes past him, leading him into her office and closing the door. Her arms are crossed against her chest, and she's looking at him with such trepidation, he can barely meet her gaze. 

"Killian, what's going on?"

So he spills everything, words pouring out of him like rum from his flask, starting with the first blackmail, leading to the deal to get his hook back, and everything in between. He's so ashamed, so terrified of her disappointment in him, that there are tears clouding up his vision. He ends with "I'm so sorry, Emma," and chances a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. 

Her jaw is clenched tight, her mouth a thin slash of anger across her face.

"You lied to me," she says, her voice breaking on those words, the most terrible words he's ever heard in his entire life. "I trusted you, and you lied to me."

"I know. I'm so sorry," he repeats, and his good hand is fisting at his side to keep from reaching out to her. 

She's pacing now, harsh steps across the office and back, her hands pushing her hair back from her face. He's never seen her this angry, and the fact that he's caused it, brought her so much pain, is far worse than anything the Crocodile could ever do to him.

"Swan, I will do anything to win your trust again," he swears, his arm reaching out to stop her before he's even aware. "I will do anything to fix this."

"Shut up," she all but seethes, jerking back out of his reach. The heat of her glare could melt the wall of ice surrounding the town, he's sure, and he does not like being on the receiving end of it.

Three hundred years suddenly seems like the blink of an eye compared to the long stretch of tense silence that follows. He doesn't say a word, just listens to her angry breathing, watches her swipe at a few stray tears, and clenches his fist again, a tidal wave of self-loathing rising within him. Whatever punishment she metes out will be far less than he deserves.

"Sit down," she finally tells him. Her words brook no argument as she pushes the chair out toward him, then takes her own seat behind the desk. 

He sits on the edge of the chair, back straight as a ramrod, and watches her, waiting for his punishment. 

"You want to fix this? Then you're going to have to start trusting me," she says, looking at him with a challenge in her eyes. "Can you do that?"

He simply nods in response, wants to tell her he's always trusted her, but swallows down the words instead. 

"Fine." She pulls out a large padded envelope from a drawer and slaps it down on the desk . "Remove your hook, all your jewelry and your belt, and empty your pockets. You're under arrest."

"Swan…" he starts to protest, but she cuts him off with another fiery glare.

"You gonna trust me or not?"

With a solemn nod, he removes his belt and then his hook, uses his mouth to pull off his rings, dumps the key to his room at Granny's onto the desk with a few gold doubloons and his flask, and watches as she shoves it all into the envelope.

"Your things will be returned to you upon your release," she says, marking his name on the envelope and locking it in the drawer. "Now I'm going to take your fingerprints and your picture, then I'm going to lock you in that cell over there, and you're going to stay in there until I let you out. Understand?"

"Aye."

"And if anyone, and I mean anyone, comes to visit you, you are to tell them nothing about Gold having the real dagger. As far as you're concerned, he gave it to Belle, and that's all you've ever believed. Are we clear?"

"Aye," he repeats, rising as she stands and grabs his arm, yanking him the rest of the way out of his seat. 

"If you disobey me even the tiniest bit," she murmurs, voice low and husky with anger, "then you and I are through."

She jerks him roughly out of the room, blackens his fingertips with ink and smears them across a little card, then wipes the ink off his fingers with gentle movements that belie her anger. 

"Stand here and don't move," she says, pulling out a black device he's seen before. A camera, he remembers, just as she presses a button and there's a flash of light that makes the world go dark for a moment. He's barely recovered his sight when she's maneuvering him to face the other way and he's briefly blinded again by the camera light, blinking madly and trying not to stumble when she shoves him into the cell, the door clanking shut behind him. 

A tiny flicker of hope lights up within him, as she steps back and waves her hands in front of her. For a brief moment, magic shimmers in the air and then it's gone, but he can feel the change, can feel the invisible barrier she's placed around the cells. She nods to herself as if satisfied and says, "No one can get in there but me. You two play nice. I'll be back later."

Sinking down onto the narrow bed, he sighs with relief. He'll gladly spend the rest of his existence in this tiny cell, being force fed bologna if it means his Swan will give him another chance. It's far more than he deserves, and if there's any selfishness left in him, it's all in regard to her. He'll take whatever affection she gives, and hold onto it like a dying man holding onto the last vestiges of life.


	2. Chapter 2

The happy little jangle of the bells over Gold's Pawn Shop door makes her want to punt the damn things into the next realm. She can't remember the last time she's been this angry; maybe when she discovered Baelfire was Neal. Why, she wonders, is she always attracted to liars? 

"Miss Swan, what brings you here today?" Gold asks, looking up from whatever he's tinkering with at the counter.

"I've got Hook in a cell down at the station," she answers. "Seems he's been a very busy pirate lately."

There's a tiny flicker of worry in his eyes, quickly schooled into vague disinterest, but she catches it and files it away for later. 

"He's confessed to breaking in to your shop, threatening Belle so you would give him his hand back, assaulting Will Scarlett, and robbing and assaulting some poor old guy on the outskirts of town. He says you have his hand again. I'm going to need it for prints."

Gold laughs a little then, that smug, superior little laugh he does that makes her want to punch him in the face. "Yes, seems he has been busy. And here I thought he'd changed, become a better man."

"So did I," she mutters, and she doesn't have to fake her disappointment, because she's still so hurt and angry she can barely contain it. "You have the hand?"

"Of course," he says, pulling it out from behind the counter. The sight of Killian's hand, preserved like pickles in a jar, nauseates her. This man standing before her is beyond sick, that he would have saved it all these years like a damn trophy. 

And that's the thing, Killian made some really dumb choices over the last few days and she's not nearly done being mad at him. But in the grand scheme of things, he got played by the cruelest, coldest, most manipulative bastard to ever walk the face of the earth, all because he wanted to help her find the Snow Queen, to hold her with two hands. Stupid, romantic pirate. That is the only reason she'll forgive him when this is over.

"I'm curious, Ms. Swan, why exactly did he pick on some unsuspecting old man? That seems rather… random. Did he say?"

Aha, Emma thinks. She hoped he'd ask this question, so she bites back her gotcha smile before she answers. 

"He said he was there for gold." She pauses for a moment to let that sink in, gauging his reaction, then continues. "I found some doubloons in his pocket; I'm guessing they came from this old guy."

"Ah I see. I guess a pirate can't resist treasure," Gold replies with a smile that hides his momentary panic, but Emma's lie radar is finely tuned at the moment, and she sees right through him. 

"Guess not. Belle around? I need to talk to her too." She silently relishes the second brief glimpse of panic in Gold's eyes as she taps the counter impatiently. He starts to say something just as Belle swings open the curtain and emerges from the back room, cutting off whatever excuse he was about to give.

"Emma, what brings you here?"

"I wanted to let you know that Will Scarlett is still in custody, and so is Hook. I'll see to it that he won't bother you ever again. I've also got David and some of the dwarves installing security cameras around the library, and new locks on the door."

"Hook?" Belle shakes her head in confusion. "Why do you have Hook in custody?"

"I'm sorry, I thought you knew. Hook made some threats against you in order to get Mr. Gold here to give back his hand, and then his hook again." She blinks back tears now, because of all the foolish things Killian has done the last few days, threatening to harm Belle is the worst. The woman is harmless, if a little naive. She certainly doesn't deserve to get thrust into the middle of a centuries old vendetta, and Emma is going to make sure that Killian understands that quite thoroughly or they are most definitely through.

"Oh. I'm surprised. I really thought he'd changed," Belle says, coming forward and placing her hand sweetly over Emma's. 

"Me too," Emma answers, blinking back genuine tears. "But I guess there are some people in this world that are incapable of change." With that, she chances a quick glance at Gold, hoping Belle will catch a frickin' hint, but all Belle does is pat her hand again.

"It's never too late," she says. "Maybe you shouldn't give up on him."

"Oh it's definitely too late," Emma retorts. "The bastard can rot for all I care. I'm done dating liars and thieves."

She extracts her hand from Belle's, picks up the jar containing Killian's hand, and says, "I've got to go. There's this to deal with, and I've still got this Snow Queen to track down. If you guys have any more trouble, call my cell phone."

"Thank you, Emma. And good luck," Belle calls out over the jangle of those damn bells. 

On her way back to her car, Emma can't help but wonder if she's just as naive as Belle, thinking Killian can really change. Can she really judge the woman's poor taste in men when she's just as bad? And the thing is, she wants to believe he can change, is changing, because she's already gone and fallen in love with the bastard. 

Her lie detecting superpower has been known to fail, but most of the time she's absolutely sure it works. So when she thinks back to all the moments she's shared with Killian, all the things he's said to her, she still feels the truth of his words, his convictions, knows he wasn't lying. She's sure of that. He fought for her, crossed realms for her, followed her through a time portal, sacrificed his beloved ship for her, risked his very life for her and her family.

No, she has to believe in him, because if he wasn't trying to be a good man, he never would've confessed everything to her. That's the difference between Killian and his Crocodile. 

She puts the jar on the passenger seat of her bug and gives in to her strange compulsion to strap it in with the seatbelt. Then she heads out to check out the house where Killian said he helped the Dark One harm an old man that very morning. He said something about the guy getting sucked into a hat. She's not even surprised anymore at the weird stuff that happens in this town. 

All the while, she can't stop thinking about… everything, every moment since Killian found her in New York, all the ways in which he helped her, all the happiness he's brought to her, the way his touch and his kiss lights her up from the inside out and how she went from such joy to such pain in the space of a heartbeat. It's too much, and for a moment she has to pull over and let her heart break wide open as the sobs take over.


	3. Chapter 3

When Emma returns, her eyes are puffy and red and she can barely look at him. The little flicker of hope within him dies when he sees her, looking so lost, carrying his hand in the jar where the Crocodile kept it all those years. He stands and moves toward the bars of his cell, longing to say something to make everything better, to tell her again how sorry he is for the mess he made, to make her believe that he loves her and that he would do anything to fix things between them. 

"Bloody hell, when am I getting out of this brig?" Will asks, standing and thrusting his face between the bars. "You can't hold me here forever."

Emma sighs in exasperation, waves her hand toward him andsays, "Why don't you take a nap?" She spares only a passing glance as Will falls softly onto his cot, sound asleep. 

And Killian is so proud of her, the way she's learning to control her magic, but of course, he can't tell her that now with things so strained between them. But oh, his fierce, brave Swan is a thing of beauty when she's in command. 

"As you can see, I've got your hand back," she says, setting the jar down on the nearest desk. "I'm going to have take the fingerprints from it, which I'd much prefer to do when it's… you know, attached to you."

His stomach knots up at the very idea of having it back, the memories of the darkness creeping up his wrist through his veins and spreading like a deadly contagion. 

"Killian," she says, forcing him to look at her, "I want you to listen to me very carefully." He nods, and tries to force back the fear that's making his palm sweaty and his heart race.

"First of all, I don't give a damn whether you have one hand or two, you got that?"

He nods again, afraid to trust his voice.

"This hand is _not_ cursed," she says, and her tone of voice brooks no argument. "I don't care what the Dark One said or what he did, this hand is _not_ cursed. This hand belonged to a loyal brother, a brave lieutenant, a man who loved deeply, who fought for what he wanted, who lived by a code even when he was a pirate. Am I wrong about that?"

All he can do is shake his head in the negative, tears building like storm clouds behind his eyes as she continues. 

"And the thing is, no one gets to tell you what you are except you. They're always gonna try. They'll tell you you're no good, you're a villain, you're a black hearted pirate, or an unloved orphan. They'll tell you you're not good enough, not strong enough, not brave enough, that you don't deserve good things. I say, to hell with that!No one gets to decide who you're going to be except you. Not a hand, not a crocodile, not anyone or anything but you."

He's never seen her so look so beautiful, so determined, so filled with righteous indignation and truth, her own eyes shining with tears, that he can't do anything but grip the bars of the cell to keep himself from falling to his knees in abject humility and utter worshipful devotion. He wants to hold her with a desperate need that makes him shake like a drunkard in need of his next drink. She is everything he's ever wanted and needed and never deserved, but he will, he will deserve her because she's right. He can be anything he wants, and no one will ever convince him otherwise ever again. And all he wants to be, forever and always, is the man who loves Emma Swan, and the man who is loved by Emma Swan in return. 

"So the choice is yours. I can put it back for you. Or you can stay as you are."

"Put it back," he says without hesitation, and his voice sounds as if he's swallowed a mouthful of sharp stones. He wants it back, to be able to hold her properly, touch her with every part of him, prove to himself and to her that he's a good man even with a pirate's hand. He wants a second chance to be whole, without it being tainted by the Dark One.

"Ok," she says with a solemn nod, and she closes her eyes, scrunches up her nose in concentration in a way that would make him smile in any other situation, and then poof, his hand is back and he's flexing his fingers and wincing at the pain in his knuckles from where he struck the man in the next cell. 

"I still have to take prints from it," she says, all business as she gathers up the ink pad and the little white card. 

He holds his newly attached hand out through the bars, tingling with pleasure at her touch as she maneuvers his fingers through the ink and over the paper, rolling them gently. As she takes a damp cloth and wipes off the ink, she looks up at him with hope and longing and pain in her eyes, and god how he wants to kiss her. Instead, he doesn't let her pull her hand away, just links his fingers through hers, and says, "I _am_ sorry, Emma."

"I know," she murmurs in reply, and the tears she's been holding at bay slide down her cheeks, and he swears they slip right through the cracks in his heart, salt water on an open wound. She doesn't say anything further, but she doesn't pull her hand away either, and that gives him hope. "Just remember what I told you. You never told me, or anyone, about Gold having the real dagger."

"I remember," he says, bringing his other hand up to sweep away a tear from her cheek, and it's a promise. He'll never let her down again.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The Snow Queen is still MIA, although she's still leaving little gifts for Emma in the form of ice slicks beneath her little yellow bug, sometimes melted into large, vaguely beetle shaped puddles by the time Emma finds them. It reminds her of her surprise the night before when she mentioned the puddle to Killian on their date, and he outright dismissed her concerns. She should've known right then that something was amiss, because Killian has always believed in her, always trusted her instincts. 

She'd given David a very brief report on what was happening with Killian, and then sent him on his way to deal with other stuff. With the Snow Queen on the loose and Anna missing and all the reports of break-ins all up and down Main Street (Will Scarlett's been a busy boy), they're spread pretty thin, and she suddenly feels Killian's absence more keenly than ever.

All she knows at the moment though, is that _she is going to fix this._ She deserves a happy ending, and so does Killian. (Her parents hope and optimism must be rubbing off on her, she thinks.) And she loves him. She's finally ready to admit it, at least to herself. She loves him more than she thought possible. He screwed up, badly yes, but she still loves him, and she's going to fight for him, because that's what he's always done for her. 

Her emotions are high, rage and fear and hope and sadness and guilt and disappointment and love all mixed up and vying for dominance. Magic is buzzing through her like an electric charge thrumming in her veins. She feels like she could float off the ground and drift off into space if she's not careful. It's all she can do to keep it from pouring out her fingertips and spreading chaos all over Storybrooke. She kind of hopes she runs into the Snow Queen in her current state, 'cause she feels… indomitable. Someone hurt Killian, someone is out to hurt her too, and she'll be damned if she'll let that happen. 

She takes a deep breath, tries to calm the buzzing beneath her skin, and makes her way to the library. The new security cameras are in place; that wasn't a lie. Belle should feel safe at work, and the library is public property, so Emma is going to do everything she can to make it safe for her. 

Inside the library, there is an almost sacred hush, a reverence for the books that has become a palpable presence since Belle took up running the place. Belle, herself, is hunched over the circulation desk, thumbing through an ancient volume, but she looks up as Emma enters, and smiles.

"Hey, I was just checking in. Did David give you the new key to the door?"

"Yes, and he showed me how the cameras work. He was very thorough," Belle answers, with an amused grin.

"Good. We just want you to feel safe here. Don't give the key to anyone, please, and don't make copies. Mary Margaret has the only other key, in case of emergency."

"I understand. How are you holding up?" Belle asks kindly, and Emma has to blink back the sudden onslaught of tears at the question, because she's still not used to anyone expressing concern for her well-being. She's still not used to having friends. 

"Honestly, I've been better," she says. "Just trying to keep myself busy, so…."

"So you won't have time to think too much."

"Yeah, that," she agrees, looking toward the door. She can't open up right now, because she won't be able to contain herself if she does and she doesn't have time for another breakdown like she had in the car earlier. So she shoves her emotions back down, takes another deep breath and says, "I gotta go."

"If you need someone to talk to, Emma, come find me," Belle calls out after her, and Emma just waves in response. 

When she steps out the door, she can feel someone watching her. The feeling settles over her like the kind of itch that keeps moving just when you think you've found the right spot to scratch. It's Gold, she knows, and it's just what she hoped for, even if it gives her a serious case of the creeps. Let him think she's been chatting up Belle about the dagger. 

She shudders beneath her leather jacket and heads off toward home to check on her mom and Neal and Elsa. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

He's worried about Emma, and it just adds to his guilt. While he's sitting here like a useless lump, locked up, she's out there potentially facing the dangers of the Snow Queen or the Dark One, or both. If something happens to her, it'll be the end of him. 

As if the thought has conjured him up, the Dark One comes limping in, all trussed up in his dark suit and matching tie, looking as smirky and smug as usual. Killian stands up and faces him, both hands gripping the bars of the cell, prepared for the worst. 

"I see Ms. Swan has returned your hand to you. How very thoughtful of her," he says, swaying slightly on his feet, hands clutching his walking stick.

"She needed my finger prints, and she wasn't too keen on getting them from a disembodied hand. She's not as gruesome as you, Crocodile."

"Of course. Seems you've been a very busy pirate. And a very talkative one. What exactly did you tell our dear Sheriff?"

"Worried, Crocodile? No need to be. I merely confessed to my own crimes, not yours."

"So she doesn't know that I gave Belle a fake dagger?"

"No, she doesn't," Killian says, his jaw nearly snapping with tension.  

"And why should I believe you? You see, she's been awfully chatty with Belle today."

"You should believe me because I don't want Emma harmed, and I have no doubt you'd take it out on her if I exposed you for the lying coward you are."

"True," he says, both hands clasping over the head of his cane as he leans in toward the bars. "Tell me why I shouldn't just kill you right now for breaking our deal?"

"The deal was that I don't tell anyone about the fake dagger. And I haven't."

"Ms. Swan says you assaulted this poor fellow last night," he says, waving his hand toward the still sleeping Will Scarlet in the next cell. "He strikes me as the vengeful type, don't you think?"

Killian just narrows his eyes, and says, "What's your point?"

"My point is, I could kill you with my dagger right now and make it look like this fellow here was only getting his revenge, much like I did with Zelena. Except I made it look like she killed herself, but you get the picture." As he speaks, he pulls his dagger out and takes another step closer to Killian's cell.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go ahead, Crocodile, and do your worst," Killian taunts, and it's like he can't help himself. He realizes now that this man brings out the blackest side of him, that it wasn't his hand last night, it was this man and his words that brought out the darkness. Emma was right, his hand is not cursed.  

"If you insist," Gold says with deadly calm. He steps closer, the dagger raised to strike, but the moment he hits Emma's invisible wall of magic, sparks fly from it and the Dark One goes flying across the room, landing hard against the wall and sliding down to the floor with a satisfying thump. 

"Oh, did I forget to mention Emma put up a protective barrier?" Killian can't help but smirk, as Gold lays there, disheveled and stunned. 

"A minor setback," Gold responds, lifting himself off the floor and smoothing down his jacket. His voice is eerily calm for a man who's just been tossed about like a rag doll. "Do you really think I can't dismantle it?"

"Perhaps you can, but that's going to take some time now, isn't it? Time you don't have, because Emma will be back any moment. Tick tock, Crocodile."

Gold smiles that cold smile that makes Killian's skin crawl, and says, "Perhaps you're right, but don't think this is over, pirate. Ms. Swan can't keep you here forever."

He looks over at the security monitor and waves his hand over it, the shimmer of magic glimmering in the air before dissipating, and then he casually limps out as if he hadn't a care in the world, glancing back over his shoulder with another calculating smile, and then he's gone.

Killian settles back on the narrow bed with a heavy sigh and hopes to hell he hasn't just made things worse for Emma. He wants to see her with a fevered desperation that only she seems to bring out in him, wants to see with his own eyes that she's unharmed. It feels as if it's been days, instead of mere hours, since she reattached his hand and then left to clean up his mess.

 


	6. Chapter 6

It's only been a few hours since she gave him back his hand, but it feels somehow as if she hasn't seen him for days. With David out all morning attending to other things, Killian and Will have been unattended for longer than she planned. 

She's worried that her magical barrier is too weak to protect Killian from Gold, if the Dark One decided to pay him a visit while she's been out. When she put it up that morning, she was in such a seething rage, she was sure no one could get past it but her. But now self doubt is starting to settle in, and there's no one to believe in her, to boost her flagging self-confidence the way Killian always does.  

She grabs lunch to go at Granny's and rushes back to the sheriff's station like the hounds of hell are on her tail. When she bursts through the door, she stops short and lets out a heavy sigh of relief at the sight of Killian sitting on the cot, his head in his hands. He looks up sharply at the sound of her steps, and the look on his face mirrors her own sweet relief, and her heart melts her a little more to see that he was worried about her as well.

"I brought food," she says, holding up the bag. "Thought you might be hungry." 

She glances at Will Scarlett and sees he's still asleep, which worries her a bit. Maybe her magic from that morning was stronger than she thought.

"Aye, that I am," Killian replies, standing and moving toward the bars as she drags a chair over to his cell. "You okay?"

He asks it in that same low, tender voice he'd used when he helped pull her out of Elsa's ice cave, so full of love and concern, and it sets her blood to buzzing again in that pleasurable way that only he brings out in her. 

"I'm fine," she answers, pulling food out of the bag and passing him a burger and fries. "How 'bout you? Any visitors while I was out?"

"The Dark One paid a visit. He was his usual charming self."

She pauses for a moment, fear for Killian's safety rising up like a flash flood that she has to quell before she can speak. He's fine, he's fine, she repeats silently. She expected Gold to show up; hoped for it even. This is all part of the plan, she tells herself and takes a deep breath.  

"Tell me everything he said."

"He wanted to know if I told you about the fake dagger. I told him no. He threatened to kill me with his real dagger and make it look like my cell mate here did it. Then he got thrown back by your magical barrier, and it was quite the sight, Swan. Even when you're not here, you're bloody amazing." 

Her heart hammers in double time at the thought of what might've happened if her magic had failed and she has to take another deep breath to steady her nerves. "I don't imagine he's about to give up."

"No. He said you couldn't hold me here forever."

David enters just then, two coffees in his hand, and sets them down on the desk, his gaze full of questions as he looks between her and Killian. "Everything okay here?"

"Fine. But Gold was here while I was out. We need to check the security tapes."

"I'll do it," he says, moving toward the ancient monitor against the wall, and Emma smiles because she knows exactly what they'll find. Nothing, except possibly a moment of wavy static.

"There's nothing here," David tells her. "According to this tape, no one's been in and out of here except you."

At Killian's look of utter defeat, she reaches out and touches his hand, curling her fingers around his. "Hey," she murmurs, "trust, remember?"

"Aye," he replies, "I trust you, Swan."

"Let's check the other tape," she says, standing and wadding up her food wrapper, tossing it into the nearest bin as she and David head for her office.

They huddle together over the monitor, listening and watching in full, living color as Gold does exactly as Killian said, threatening, pulling out his dagger, and then sailing across the room when he hits her barrier. 

"You did that?" David says, impressed, and Emma can only smile and nod in response. It's nice to have a proud father, she thinks, even if it took thirty years to get it.  

"You're good at this, you know," he continues. "Putting this second camera system in after Zelena died… I wouldn't have thought of it."

She shrugs and says, "We needed an upgrade anyway."

"So Gold has the real dagger, Belle has a fake, and Gold's been lying all along. That manipulative bastard," he says, rewinding the tape so they can watch it again. "And he killed Zelena just as Regina suspected."

"Is that true?" comes the unexpected voice of Belle from behind them, and Emma nearly drops her coffee in her lap in shock.

"Belle… what are you doing here?"

She doesn't answer, just points to the camera and repeats, "Is it true?"

"I'm afraid so. I'm sorry," Emma answers, and she really is. Belle is a genuinely nice person who deserves better than Rumpelstiltskin. 

"Play it again," Belle commands, and there are tears in her eyes, and Emma really wishes Belle didn't have to find out this way that her new husband is…. well, still as dark as he's always been. 

David rewinds and plays the tape again. They all listen and watch as Gold makes his threats, admits Belle's dagger is fake, and confesses to killing Zelena. By the time it's finished, Belle is nearly doubled over with grief. 

"Belle… " Emma doesn't get to finish whatever she was saying before Belle runs out of the office. 

 


	7. Chapter 7

"Crap," Emma says, thunking her coffee down on the desk. "You think we should go after her?"

"I think we're going to have bigger things to worry about," David says. "Once Gold finds out from Belle that we know everything, things will get ugly."

"You mean they're not ugly now?" Emma says with a cynical laugh. 

"True. You going to let Hook out now? Looks like he was telling the truth."

"Hell no. I didn't put him in there to punish him, I put him in there to keep him safe."

"So what? You're just going to keep him in there forever?"

"Not forever, no. Just until… we figure out how to contain Rumpelstiltskin."

"As much as I understand your concern, Emma, we could use all the help we can get around here, and Hook is good in a fight," David says.

"Since when are you such a Killian fanboy?" she asks, because making a joke is easier than admitting her worst fear to her father. That she can't lose Killian, can't watch him die because she put him in danger. She's been down that road once before when Zelena tried to drown him and she's not eager to repeat it. 

"I'm not," David says, and she smiles because she knows he's lying. "It's just… your magic is stronger when you're with him."

"What?" That was the last thing she expected him to say, and well… she has no response to it, and she's pretty sure her mouth is hanging open in a very unflattering way. 

"You honestly haven't figured that out yet? That barrier you put up," he says, waving toward the cells, "that's strong magic. The other day when you saved him, and me, from the ice daggers in the forest… you didn't even think, you just acted. I've never seen you like that."

"Maybe it was you, not him," she argues, 'cause she's not ready to admit to the implications of what he's saying. 

"Oh Emma," he smiles his fatherly smile and pulls her in for a hug. "Thank you for saying that, and I know you'll always have my back, but you and I both know it wasn't me you were worried about."

"Okay, fine, but… I still think he's safer in there. You heard what Gold said on the tape. He's just waiting for me to let him out, so he can kill him."

"Fine, let's just go and see if we can talk to Gold. Maybe now that Belle knows he's been lying, he'll turn away from the darkness in an effort to save his marriage."  

Emma thinks it's highly unlikely, but she grabs her jacket and follows David out anyway, stopping a moment to speak to Killian again.

"Hey," she says, "we're going to talk to Gold. You need anything?"

He looks so pained that she can't help but reach out and take his hand through the bars, entwining their fingers. He brings their joined hands to his lips and places a soft kiss on her knuckles.

"Just please be careful, love."

"I will. I'll see you later," she says, and she swears that it's getting harder and harder to leave him. She wants to crawl into his arms and just rest for a bit, just shut out all the villains and curses and witches and just be. But she drags her hand away, because if they're ever going to have another quiet moment, she has to fix things with Gold first. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

The only person in Gold's shop is a very distraught Belle. She sobs out something about a hat and a mansion brought over in the last curse and her honeymoon, and it takes some doing, but they finally calm her enough to get the whole story. She leads them to the mansion, but Gold is not there either.

Belle thinks he's trying to amass even more power, a thought that does nothing for Emma's anxieties. She can't imagine why. What is the point? He's already the most powerful man in town and she's so worried they'll be too late; he'll be unstoppable. And that means she'll lose Killian, and who knows who else might get caught in the crossfire. This is a man who once considered killing his own grandchild, after all.

They split up and search all over town, the well, the surrounding forest, but they can't find him anywhere. Defeated, Emma heads back to the sheriff's station to check on Killian, and that's where she finds him. Gold, wielding his dagger, has her pirate bound and gagged and on his knees beside him. 

Killian's face is a watercolor of cuts and bruises, one eye swollen nearly shut, with the Dark One's dagger pressing hard against his wind pipe, a thin line of blood seeping out from beneath it. The dagger might as well be pressed to her own throat, because suddenly she can't breathe. She can't breathe, she can't breathe, she can't breathe, and her magic is burning beneath her skin. 

"Ah, there you are, dearie," Gold says, and she realizes, this isn't Gold anymore, this is straight up Dark One with the high pitched voice and the scaly skin and the dead eyes that creep her out more than anything. "Wouldn't want to start the party without you."

"Guess my invitation got lost in the mail," she retorts, casting a quick glance around the office. Will Scarlett is gone, his cell door wide open. Probably for the best, she thinks. She doesn't want anyone else in the middle of this mess. 

"Well, took me awhile to break through your little barrier, but as you can see, success!" he giggles, waving his hand at his captive.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing important. Power. Magic," he says with a little wave of his fingers. "You see, I've got this special hat. The bearer of this hat can use it to absorb anyone with magic. They get sort of sucked into it, and then, their power, well, it becomes mine."

"You don't think you've got enough power already?" 

"I thought so at first, but then… well, you started your little romance here with the pirate, and that only meant bad things for me."

"What? I don't see how it has anything to do with you."

"Oh, but it does, dearie. You see…" he pauses, his finger on his chin as he contemplates, and then says, "No, I'm not going to tell you. But I will tell you this: if you don't go into the hat, I'm going to kill your pirate. Go into the hat willingly, and I'll set him free."

He gestures to the desk, and she sees it, a pointy thing with a wide brim all the way around and tiny yellow moons and stars on the outside. Looks ordinary to her, like something you'd find at a costume shop, but she knows better than to underestimate ordinary objects. She also knows that he can't just absorb her into the hat for some reason, and that means she's got time. 

"No," she says, and the magic in her veins is a roaring inferno, blazing out of control. "You will not hurt him."

He just giggles, that repulsive laugh that makes her shudder, and presses the knife harder into Killian's throat. She's so so angry, thinking of all the ways that this man's machinations have hurt her, made her an orphan, separated her parents from her and from each other, got Henry kidnapped, murdered Killian's first love and cut off his hand and it's all more than enough. It's too much in fact and she is _done_. She's been playing nice for far too long. 

"I won't let you hurt him," she repeats. Her magic is unstoppable now, but she's hardly aware of it as she continues speaking, only conscious of an angry torrent of words coming out of her and a fierce determination to defeat the Dark One. Tears are streaming down her cheeks and clogging her throat, but they do nothing to quench the fire in her. "You will not hurt anyone else I care about ever again. I've had it with your dark magic and your curses and your power hungry bullying and _I'm done with you_." 

While she speaks, the scales begin to fade from his skin, starting at his brow and working downward. A dark mass of clouds begins rising up out of him, amassing beneath the ceiling like a thunderhead, and Rumpelstiltskin cowers, actually cowers and screams like he's being torn in half. The dagger drops from his hand and turns to ash, and then the ash just vanishes into nothing.

Emma waves her hand and Killian skitters across the floor out of the way, and she's a wildfire of magic, white heat shooting out of every pore. She watches as the dark cloud shifts and changes like a living thing, turning silver and sparkling like a million tiny diamonds. Then it moves over her and drops down like rain, pouring into her and she can feel it cooling the fire in her veins, and she has no idea what is going on. All she can think is _Killian, Killian, Killian._

When it's finally over, she drops to her hands and knees, quick staccato breaths rushing in and out of her as if she's just run a marathon. She crawls over to Killian and frees him. Then she's in his arms and he's murmuring words she can't focus on and she just clings, fingers in his hair and gripping the leather of his vest like she can't get him close enough because she can't. 

A few feet away Rumpelstiltskin looks like Gold again, only smaller somehow. He's rocking back and forth, muttering, "What have you done?" over and over again like a man gone insane. It's a good question, she thinks. She has no idea what she's done. 

They're still clinging to each other, her and Killian, when David rushes in with half the town behind him.

"Emma, you all right?"

She just nods, refusing to let go, to leave the shelter of Killian's arms. Her hands are everywhere, gripping his arms, clutching his shoulders, his back, brushing gently over his face, and somehow healing his wounds while reassuring herself that he's safe again. 

"What the hell happened here?" David asks. "We saw… something."

"I'm not sure," she answers, pulling back just enough to glance around the room. Gold is still on the floor too, a defeated, ordinary little man. "He wanted me to go into that hat. He threatened to kill Killian. And then I don't know. I think… I stole his magic?"

"You stole his magic? Does that mean you're the Dark One now?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. I don't feel… dark," she answers with a shrug, but that doesn't seem to erase the look of worry on everyone's face. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

He's sitting on a log by the stream near the old toll bridge, a place he never comes. But it lured him out, spoke to him of a much needed solitude, where he could think alone and not be found. Physically, his wounds are all healed, vanishing at Emma's loving touch, and he is profoundly humbled by all she's done for him, and how undeserving he is of her care. 

Therein lies the problem: he caused this mess, put her in terrible danger, went against all his instincts and made a deal with the Dark One. The guilt and regret is eating away at him like a fire in his gut. He never wanted to hurt her, and that's what he's done. Hurt her, made her cry, caused her pain.

"Hey. What are you doing out here?"

He turns and there she is, his Swan, in her denims and her boots and her leather jacket and her hair all wild and free like spun silk. She has never looked more beautiful. 

"Swan," he simply says, because she often leaves him at a loss for words, and then he moves to make room for her on the log as she sits beside him.

"You okay?" she asks, reaching for his hand, the one she gave back to him without the taint of curses and darkness. The one he doesn't deserve, and so he tucks it out of sight beneath his leg before she can touch it.

"I'm fine, Swan. Just came out here to think."

"Okay. Now who's running?" she says, and there's a hint of hurt in her voice that sends a jolt of pain straight through him.

"Sorry, Love," he says, pulling his hand out and reaching for her own, letting her entwine her fingers with his. "I'm not running. Just thought maybe you needed space. How did you know where to find me?"

"Seems I've got radar where you're concerned now. And if I need space, I'll ask for it."

"Point taken, Love. What is radar?"

"Like a locator device," she explains, nudging his shoulder. "You going to tell me what's wrong?"

"I put you in great peril, Love. I don't deserve you," he says, trying not to let his voice break over the words.

"Didn't we discuss this already? You made a mistake, and you're forgiven, so please forgive yourself. I've made mistakes too, you know. But I'm done living in the past, Killian. I just want to move forward. With you."

"Are you certain, Swan?"

Her answer comes in the form of a story, as she stares at their entwined fingers, her other hand coming up to join them, as if she can't not touch him. It stirs him deep inside, this woman he chased for so long, worried she'd never open up to him, and now she's here, seeking him out, touching him freely, loving him despite all his flaws. She leaves him absolutely breathless.

"Blue came to see me today. Together we were able to… I don't know, unsuck that old guy out of the hat. He's fine, by the way, and Blue is locking the hat away for safe keeping. Anyway, she told me what happened with my magic. She said that magic is fueled by emotion, and that because I'm the product of True Love, mine is fueled by love more than anything else. When someone I love is in danger, it makes my magic stronger."

By the gods, he can barely contain his emotions. She's telling him she loves him, and he wants to say something, tell her she is loved too. But she shushes him and says, "Let me finish," and he nods, urging her to continue.

"She said that Gold knew my magic would only get stronger because… because of you, because of us, and that someday soon it would be stronger than his. That's why he wanted it for himself, so no one could beat him with magic. With my magic, he wouldn't need the dagger anymore, so no one could ever control him again. So when he threatened to kill you, I somehow stole his magic, turned it into light magic and… I don't know, absorbed it, I guess."

"You're bloody amazing, Love. I've always known that, but you were spectacular in that moment, glowing like a goddess. I couldn't take my eyes off you."

Her eyes tear up, and he can't fathom how she could love him so much. "I was so scared, Killian. I told you, I can't lose you."

"You won't, Love. Never again."

"That's not the whole story," she says, and her fingers are suddenly fidgeting nervously against his own. Gently, he strokes them; soothing caresses meant to reassure her.

"What is it, my love?"

"Blue said it wasn't just love that allowed me to take his magic. No Dark One has ever been defeated by light magic alone. She said my magic… it was magic fueled by true love."

She's smiling a teary-eyed, timid little smile at that revelation, and he can't speak for all the emotion choking him. All he can get out is, "Emma, Emma, Emma," and then he's kissing her like his life depends on her lips touching his, his fingers tangling in her hair, his newly returned left hand dragging her closer until she's on his lap. 

He has no idea how long they stay like that, kissing and kissing and then kissing some more, and he can't get enough, but eventually they have to breathe. 

When she pulls back, she reaches up and strokes his face, his lips, his brow, like she can't get enough of touching him, and it's everything to him. Then she takes his hands into hers. He feels the magic pulsing beneath her fingertips, a warm buzz seeping into his skin, and he looks into her eyes, a question on his lips.

"This is so no one can ever take your hand again," she says, the light glowing around their joined hands, illuminating them like distant stars.

"And this," she continues, her palm resting against his chest, the magic producing a mild stinging sensation, "is so no one can ever take your heart from you."

"Ah, but Love, you stole my heart a long time ago," he says, pulling her hand up and placing a kiss in the center of her palm. Her responding smile is the best magic of all, and she cups his face with unbearable tenderness.

"Belle is staying with Gold. She says he needs her now more than ever."

"I'm not surprised," he says. "She's a loyal lass."

"She gave me this," she says, and pulls out a set of keys from her jacket pocket.

"What's that, Love?" he wonders, his own fingers toying with her hair and skimming over her cheekbones.

"These are the keys to an apartment above the library. She used to live there before she married Gold. She said I could have it."

"Finally your own place," he murmurs happily, thinking of more quiet moments, private ones they can share without the presence of parents, a newborn, and a human ice maker.

"Our place," she corrects him, and his breath is knocked out of his lungs again. "I've learned something over the last few days. And that is, I don't want to be without you ever again. I don't want to live on stolen kisses outside the loft or Granny's. You told me I should live my life during the crises or I just might miss it. So I'm taking your advice. I've wasted enough time. So what do you say, pirate?"

He answers her the way she answered him when he asked her for a second date. And when they kiss, he pillages and she plunders and he's weightless and free and happy and he knows, together they can conquer whatever they may face. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to also mention that I didn't watch OUaTIW so I have not grasped the character of Will Scarlett. Instead of faking it, I sort of hand-waved him (literally) out of the picture for most of the story. *shrug* And I probably got the stuff about the sorcerer's hat wrong, but that's why the AU tag is so handy, right?


End file.
